Chapter 979: The Dawn Church

“My god, your closet is way too big.” Luo Quan gazed up at the endless rows of clothes overhead, her eyes filled with astonishment.

But Bai Xingwei merely smiled calmly: “My parents, to make up for not being around me, love compensating with vast amounts of money.”

Given their wealth, filling this entire subspace with clothes is child’s play—but they never bother asking their own daughter what she actually likes to wear, assuming that if they buy every style imaginable, she’ll surely find something she likes, unaware that the vast majority of these clothes are simply unwearable for me.”

From Bai Xingwei’s words, Luo Quan sensed a deep bitterness; it sounded as if she had become this way due to the emotional void she’d endured since childhood.

It’s perfectly normal: children who grow up without paternal or maternal love either become more desperate for it, or completely estrange themselves from their parents.

Those who grow up mentally healthy and later maintain warm relationships with their parents are exceedingly rare.

Bai Xingwei, it seems, belongs to the latter category—estranged from her parents.

As Bai Xingwei’s only friend, Luo Quan naturally hopes she can reconcile with her family and love them deeply.

But without knowing Bai Xingwei’s past or experiencing her pain, she couldn’t just presume to urge her to let go of her resentment.

If she did so blindly, she’d invite lightning to strike her.

“Most of the clothes are here—just pick whatever you like; no limits on quantity.”

Bai Xingwei waved her right hand through the air, and a glowing screen materialized above the closet, displaying organized, categorized information on every item inside.

Luo Quan took it and immediately opened the formal gown interface—and as expected, the universe’s formal gowns weren’t all low-cut long dresses; many resembled Hanfu-style ruqun garments.

Considering this year’s Anniversary Ceremony is hosted by the Holy Tang Empire, the theme would naturally lean toward Tang culture, so Luo Quan decided to follow local customs and choose from traditional Tang attire.

Notably, while Tang clothing bears some vague resemblance to Hanfu of Huaxia, the overall design is entirely different.

Tang garments are far bolder: many lack collars entirely, covering only the collarbone and above with sheer, translucent veils that hardly conceal anything.

She’d only seen such styles in “The Golden Armor of the Full City,” a film also nicknamed online as “The Full City of D-Cup Girls.”

Tang formal gowns have a similar flair, though not quite as extreme.

Of course, Luo Quan could still wear such attire—compared to true deep-V designs, Tang Hanfu was mild by comparison.

She was merely surprised by the Tang Empire’s openness; she’d assumed its culture resembled Huaxia’s—both societies bound by feudal etiquette, conservative in thought.

Now she saw that the Tang Empire had been remarkably liberated since ancient times, utterly unlike Huaxia.

Even these low-cut gowns, if worn by women on the street, were perfectly normal.

If a woman was beautiful, passersby would gather to stare.

But if she looked ordinary, no one would pay attention—because such attire wasn’t considered eccentric.

Luo Quan didn’t know whether this openness was good or bad, but fewer people gossiping about women’s bold clothing was certainly better.

As she pondered this, Luo Quan selected a golden ruqun on the screen.

The corresponding gown immediately descended from above, appearing before her.

“This one?” Bai Xingwei glanced at it. “I never thought you’d be so conservative on TV—you’re so bold in your livestreams, and you even joke with your fans.”

“This is conservative?” Luo Quan held up the dress, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “Sometimes the design might seem modest, but the actual effect depends entirely on how it looks when worn.”

“Then try it on,” Bai Xingwei urged, blinking.

Luo Quan snapped back: “I’m about to! I’m not just talking—I’ve already changed!”

“Pfft.” Bai Xingwei crossed her arms and smirked, falling silent.

Luo Quan lifted the dress in front of her, preparing to change—then noticed Bai Xingwei hadn’t turned away. She looked at her: “Don’t you know ‘don’t look where you shouldn’t’?”

“We’re both women, what’s the big deal?” Bai Xingwei said, but still turned around.

Even though they were both women, privacy still mattered—even when she’d first spoken to Luo Quan through the Lingxi Mirror and seen her bathing.

But times change; since Luo Quan felt embarrassed, Bai Xingwei had no choice but to turn her head.

Soon, rustling sounds came from behind.

“I’m done!”

After about a minute and a half, Luo Quan called out.

Bai Xingwei turned back and, at a single glance, understood why Luo Quan had said that earlier.

People’s physiques truly can’t be generalized: what was just an ordinary off-shoulder ruqun to her became a restricted-class sight on Luo Quan.

The sight resembled towering peaks piercing through a churning sea of clouds, filling the entire horizon, nearly overflowing.

If she had to describe it in four characters, the first phrase that flashed into Bai Xingwei’s mind was “abundant fruit.”

“How’s that? I told you it wouldn’t work.”

Seeing Bai Xingwei’s slightly stunned expression, Luo Quan spread her hands: “If I show up on stage like this, nothing below my neck will even make it into the frame!”

“No, I think it looks great,” Bai Xingwei recovered, smiling. “And wearing this on TV isn’t as problematic as you imagine—the boundaries aren’t as strict as you think.”

“This isn’t strict enough?” Luo Quan wasn’t sure whether she meant herself or the show’s censors. “Let me switch to something with a higher neckline—otherwise, during the performance, everyone will be staring at my figure and ignoring my talent. That’d be backwards.”

“Your figure is your greatest talent,” Bai Xingwei grinned. “But this color really isn’t right—you already have golden hair; pairing it with a golden dress is too repetitive.”

“Good analysis. I’ll pick one with two colors.” Luo Quan summoned another dress.

This time, the neckline was higher, the visual impact less explosive.

Black-and-white, the overall style was neutral, giving Luo Quan a martial aura when worn.

Tying her hair into a ponytail, she instantly transformed into a female swordsman.

This look earned Bai Xingwei’s effusive praise—but after gazing at herself in the mirror, Luo Quan shook her head, dissatisfied: “No, this style doesn’t suit me.”

“Why? I think it’s perfect,” Bai Xingwei was baffled; she thought this look was stunning, and if she ever needed formal wear for a grand occasion, she’d pick this exact set.

“I’m performing on the show, right? This looks great, but it doesn’t match the style of my performance.”

As she spoke, Luo Quan selected a third outfit.

After much deliberation, she ultimately chose a gala gown in the Divine Protection Federation style—dominated by purple and dark gold, understated yet luxurious and profound.

Both civilizations’ clothing shared one trait: they were “liberated,” boldly designed—but still within Luo Quan’s comfort zone.

Bai Xingwei studied it and found this look equally impressive; in fact, given Luo Quan’s face, she thought the Divine Protection Federation gown suited her even better.

“If I remember correctly, I’ll perform twice at the Anniversary Ceremony: once with everyone together, and once solo.”

“I’ll wear the black-and-white ruqun for the group appearance, and this one for my solo performance.”

Luo Quan lowered her head and gently spun, checking for any disharmony—finally satisfied; no wonder it was made by a globally renowned brand.

Hearing Luo Quan’s plan, Bai Xingwei found it perfectly reasonable—and grew curious about what performance Luo Quan had prepared, one that required such careful costume choices to reduce dissonance.

“Spoiling it ahead of time would ruin the fun. All I’ll say is this will be a piece of music that definitely gives birth to a Song Spirit—my magnum opus!” Luo Quan, as always, loved to tease—but her wording was wildly exaggerated.

“Can your magnum opus be even better?” Bai Xingwei wasn’t mocking; she genuinely asked.

Luo Quan smirked proudly: “In my homeland, I’m the embodiment of beauty and talent!”

“Didn’t realize you were such a gifted woman,” Bai Xingwei said, laced with gentle sarcasm.

In her view, someone with Luo Quan’s physical advantages didn’t need anything else—just standing there already surpassed countless others.

Yet this supreme vase refused to be merely a vase; for in true vases, Luo Quan’s advantages were absurdly overwhelming.

Unfortunately, her true appearance couldn’t be revealed—not yet.

She’d have to break through the Mortal Transformation realm first, demonstrating her true martial talent.

Only then would the Divine Martial Temple value her—and only then could Luo Quan resolve most of her troubles alone.

Though Bai Xingwei could help, Luo Quan didn’t particularly like owing others favors; if possible, she’d avoid adding burdens to herself.

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice when she’d changed back into her original clothes and packed the two gowns for departure.

As they left the closet, Bai Xingwei was about to instruct the kitchen to prepare a lavish dinner for the two of them when the head steward suddenly arrived with urgent news.

As the chief steward of the Bai household, few matters warranted his direct report to her—unless the matter or person exceeded his authority.

After learning the details, Bai Xingwei’s expression turned grave: “I never expected these people would come.”

“Which people?” Luo Quan, overhearing her mutter, asked.

“The Dawn Church. They’re here for you.” Bai Xingwei opened the door, heading toward the parlor.

The steward said a trusted priest of the Patriarch had come to meet her.

As the religion with the most followers in the entire universe, the Dawn Church had countless dioceses across the Universe Star, each led by a Patriarch.

The Patriarch of the Holy Tang Empire’s capital was, outside the four main Patriarchs of the Divine Protection Federation, the most powerful and influential.

His trusted emissary naturally carried immense weight.

Though the Holy Tang Empire was a land of many faiths—wherever a god proved effective, people worshipped him—

The proportion of truly devout believers was actually quite limited.

But multiplied by its massive population, the numbers became terrifying.

Thus, even foreign religions like the Dawn Church held considerable influence within the Holy Tang Empire.

When they came in person, one must grant them face.

As for why she was certain they’d come for Luo Quan, it was likely due to her golden hair.

Luo Quan had also seen online discussions about golden hair; with Bai Xingwei’s hint, she immediately understood their intent.

The Church’s Holy Maidens all have golden hair, implying those with such hair are inherently extraordinary.

But as far as she knew, the Church already had a Holy Maiden—so why come for her? Did they want her to become the Holy Mother?

Just imagining it made her laugh.

But regardless, this was Holy Tang Empire territory; no matter how powerful the Dawn Church, they wouldn’t dare act recklessly—so Luo Quan felt no concern about their sudden arrival.

Following Bai Xingwei into the opulent parlor, the two sat on separate sofas.

Soon, the visiting priest was led in by the steward.

“May the dawn’s radiance forever protect you, Miss Bai.”

The priest bowed with hand over chest; his chin was covered in thick, rugged whiskers, yet his eyes were unexpectedly clear and gentle, like those of an elegant scholar.

“So you’re Father Devasol. I’ve heard of your reputation. Tell me—did you come for me, or for Luo Quan?”

Bai Xingwei cut straight to the point.

Devasol also looked startled by her directness, but then burst out laughing: "Miss Bai, you're refreshingly straightforward. If that's the case, I won't beat around the bush—I came here specifically to discuss something important with your good friend Luo Quan."

"Can I listen in?" Bai Xingwei's gaze was sharp, her expression clear: no listening, no discussion.

"Of course," Devasol replied with a smile. "For Miss Luo Quan, this might be a good thing."

"A good thing?" Luo Quan asked curiously. "Is it because of my golden hair?"

"Not entirely."

Devasol looked at Luo Quan and softly denied it, then began a careful scrutiny.